


Doorstep

by 4ntoine



Series: In My Head [1]
Category: TARGET.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20799959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ntoine/pseuds/4ntoine
Summary: I thought we were just friends, but maybe you want more?..





	Doorstep

Doorstep  
I open the door, and you're behind it. I extend my arm and hold up the extra timesheet I printed out for you. “Here you go.” You take it from me. Something about the way you grabbed it seems off. You’re wearing a nerdy smile. I think it’s weird that you're smiling for no reason, but you're also kinda cute, so I think I like it.  
You're still standing here, well after you’ve picked up the timesheet for which you came over here. While I don’t at all mind you still being here, it’s a little strange that you haven't left yet. “What's up?” I say so that we aren't just standing here.  
“Can I come in? I'm sorta bored in my apartment.”  
“Yeah sure.” You walk in, and I close the door behind you. Alright, I think this is as good a time as any to talk about how hot you are. I mean you're a skinny white nerd, but I mean, look at you, you're just so cute. You're like shy for some reason, maybe because you're a skinny white nerd, but you're also so fucking funny. You're the funniest kid I know. You texted me in the middle of our physics lecture to ask me if [REDACTED]. Like, Jesus.  
Anyway. I ask you about your day. I don't really super listen to what you're saying. Somehow a conversation ensues. I can tell we’re running out of things to say, but I don't think you've picked up on that yet. You seem to still be enthused about being here. Hmm.  
I go into my bedroom. You seem to want to be here, so I decide to get more comfortable. Hell, it’s my apartment, and I wanna sit on my bed. You follow me into my room and sit at my desk. You're turned toward me, on my bed. Because the desk is right next to the bed, we aren't that far apart.  
We’re still talking somehow, I don't know about what. Probably something inconsequential. You notice my copy of MarioKart 8 Deluxe sitting on my desk, and you ask if we can play. Of course, I love playing MarioKart. I always win. I get up, turn the TV on, and grab 2 joy-con and a pro controller. I ask you what you’d rather use, and you point sheepishly to the red joy-con. I honestly don't think you know what it’s called. I'm sure some part of you wants to call it a Wii remote, because honestly, when it comes to MarioKart, that’s what it is (MarioKart Wii and the Wiimote have had such an impact on the series that playing with a Wiimote/joy-con is sort of the standard now. No good player uses a pro controller), but it’s not a Wiimote. And at the same time,you aren't versed enough with the term “joy-con” to just say it out loud like some nerd. It’s fine I'm not judging you. I give you the red joy-con, I use the blue.  
Before long we’re in the middle of a 6-race Vs. I'm in first and you're in sixth. This is the best position you've ever been in, in the final lap. You're having a rough time, but you're handling it pretty well. We banter while we race. I got 87 points (out of 90), you didn't get so many. You blame your loss on the seating. I laugh. It’s a lame john, but you are sitting really close to the TV, which is on the desk.  
“Is there somewhere you’d play better?” I ask, half-goading you on, half-encouraging you to take full reign of this room and do whatever you want. You glance at the spot on the bed next to me, and before I know it, you move. You're sitting right next to me now; our thighs are touching, and we’re shoulder-to-shoulder. I'm too surprised to react. You seem to not think that much of it. Some part of me thinks you’re gonna kiss me. A smaller part of me is wishing you would kiss me already. But you don't. You start a new 6-race Vs. in MarioKart and get a head-start on me. I'm not gonna let you win that easily, so I turn my attention back to Rosalina.  
You do a lot better this time around. I still got first, but you’ve made it to 3rd. Maybe that was a bad seat for you. Nice, good on you, moving up in the world.  
You don't immediately start a new game. We’re looking at each other now, face-to-face.  
We’re still really close, so I ask you, just to make sure, “Are you comfortable?”  
You shake your head “yeah.”  
Okay. Cool. “Is there anything that would make you more comfortable?"  
You look down at my arm, the one closer to you, the one touching your arm. I follow your gaze. “Yeah, that's my arm,” I think to myself. You take my wrist in your hand and wrap my arm around you.  
Oh. Um. Wow. We're face-to-face again, and I'm back to wishing you would kiss me. Should I kiss you? Actually, now that I think about it, if anyone's gonna make the first move here, it's gonna be me. Again, you seem pretty shy.  
But fuck that. I was fine just being friends, and then you lingered in my doorway, and now here we are. Whatever you want out of this, I think I'm gonna make you come get it.  
TL;DR: kiss me already. But you don't. Instead, you tell me some mundane story about your research advisor, ignoring the inherent eroticism of our current position. I respond in kind. I don't know what we're doing here, but I don't mind doing it.  
We talk for another 10 or 15 minutes, again, about nothing important, before you say you should get back to your apartment. That's fair; it's really late, though part of me was hoping you'd spend the night.  
I walk you out and tell you I'll see you later. You turn and start walking down the hall. Then, just before I close the door, you turn around again and walk back. You look nervous again.  
“Hey, um...I'm sorry if I was weird...I uh. I don't know why. Or like what's going on with m–it just felt nice to be close to someone.”  
I pause for a second, unsure what to say.  
“Look, I'm really sorry.” You start walking away again, just as some words find me.  
“If you ever wanna hang out, just let me know.” You face me. “I had fun tonight.” A timid smile graces your face. God, you're pretty.


End file.
